Vibgyor

Borrowed the green

From the trees.

The blue from the sky.

Red from myself

And some yellow

From the flowers.

Orange was reserved.

The violet was blue.

Didn't know what’s

A Indigo hue.

My painting was 

A personified ruin.

Yet, she accepted it,

Her love is pure.

Rainbow wasn’t just

In the palette.

It was in her eyes too.

Some realizations

Are bit late,

Even for the sky

And the moon.

Light Year

I've waited for years
And just an
Hour has passed.

You're gone
For a second
And this yearning-

This yearning seems
Like its
Three-lakh-kilometers
Long.

Singer of Your Song

One day it'll rain. So bad that
You'll get drenched and
Everything will be washed away.

All the pain and melancholia
Down the drain. Dark corners of
The mind cleansed with colors.

Done and dusted thoughts will be
Given wings and the gloomy face
Will be etched with a smile.

The dead insides will be stabbed
With life and you'll see a new
Horizon like a fool with no plan.

And then that person in the
Mirror will write you a song and
You'll be a singer of your own song.

Ice and Fire

She's a dew-drop
Wrapped in
Raw innocence.

I am a wild-fire,
Contained in
Crude arrogance.

Yet, we fell-

For the calm she
Felt around me.
She says.

For the storm
I saw in you.
I smile.

Spontaneity

Sometimes
It's too much.

Legs given up,
Mind suspended.
Ache in the heart.
And crazy intestine.

Shutting your own-self
From yourself.
You just lie dead
On your empty mind.

Yet, a thought,
Pokes out of
Your rigid walls.
Fires-up itself,
Takes a ride with
The crazy wind.

Soaks in night,
Grows wings to fly high.
Basks in the starlight
And when it's back-

Walls down,
Infected with a verse,
You're all filled up.

Really!
Too much for a day.

Warmth

Let me hold you
And show
How love is felt.

How the warmth
Of my thoughts
Down your creases..

Can make you melt.

Fine Like Wine

Shall wrap your
Ailing heart and plant
Love that's wild.

Will water it with
Fire and nurse
It like a child.

Then, together
We'll grow old...
Fine like wine.